


The World Of Valyria

by TheWolvenStorm



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jurassic Park Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Minor Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Minor Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-06-07 16:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15223610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolvenStorm/pseuds/TheWolvenStorm
Summary: “When Aerys Targaryen said he was going to bring Dragons back from extinction, people called him mad. But… as you know and as you have now seen, three Dragons are currently alive and well, here on this island. As well as Krakens, Giant Sand Snakes, Saber-Tooth Lions, and Direwolves. All manner of once extinct species”Jon Snow accepts a dream job as the Direwolf Handler at the World of Valyria Amusment Park and Research Facility. But will he find his dream girl too!?Its Jurassic Park Y'all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well Mr. Snow…” Tyrion Lannister sets his resume down on his desk. A desk far too big for his small stature. “I certainly can’t say you aren’t qualified… and I certainly can’t say you don’t come highly recommended.” 

“Jon’s the best Wolf Behaviorist on three continents. Besides me, of course” Robb laughs indicating the joke. “He’s the only man I’d trust with the pack.” 

“So I can see...” Tyrion looks back down at his credentials. “I’m not usually in favor of hiring family. But given the circumstances, and your qualifications… One question though..” 

He swallows some nervous bile. Here it comes 

“You have an eighteen month gap in your employment history following your honorable discharge” 

“I was injured in the line of duty.” he answers quickly. “Had some difficulties re-adjusting to civilian life…” 

“Say no more” Lannister holds up two fingers. “I understand, my brother lost his right hand. He had some...difficulties as well. ” 

Robb throws him a smile and a wink. 

The dwarf stands and circles the desk, extending his hand to shake.“Consider yourself hired. But of course, the real test lies with our direwolves now... doesn’t it.”

“Aye” he answers. A small lie. It’s the people he’s nervous about. The wolves… the wolves he knows how to deal with. 

“Come let me give you an official Tour” 

He follows the dwarf out of the office. Robb clapping him on the shoulder. “I told you it's nothing to worry about.” Jon offers a small nod in return. 

Tyrion pauses at the doors, throwing a sly smile over his shoulder. 

“Welcome, Jon Snow… to the World of Valyria” he throws doors open with a dramatic flair. 

He’d seen some of the island from the plane. But the large domed structures had obscured much of Dragonstone. And he had spent most of his time at the hotel reviewing all of Robb’s research on the park’s pack of Direwolves. 

A deafening screech rips through the air above him, and shockingly powerful gust of wind blows some of his hair loose from the knot holding it back. 

“It seems Rhaegal is welcoming you” Robb laughs.

A Dragon. A real life Dragon. Green and Gold and… breathtaking. He flaps his massive wings and lets out another deafening screech before flying away. And that when it hits him. He’s going to be working here. He’s going to get to see Dragons and Direwolfs everyday. 

“An Amazing thing to see…” he gasps. 

“-Wait’ll you meet his mother…” his half brother continues. “Not that I’m looking of course.” he waves his hand, indicating the ring around his finger. 

“Let’s try not to encourage fraternization on our first day, Mr. Stark…” Tyrion chides. “Please follow me.” 

He leads him through the Touristy Pavillion full of chain restaurants and gift shops towards a large brick building with a sign reading: THE WORLD OF VALYRIA. 

A huge Dragon skeleton hangs from the domed ceiling. 

“When Aerys Targaryen said he was going to bring Dragons back from extinction, people called him mad. But… as you know and as you have now seen, three Dragons are currently alive and well, here on this island. As well as Krakens, Giant Sand Snakes, Saber-Tooth Lions, and Direwolves. All manner of once extinct species” 

He leads them through the museum, past exhibits and dioramas. Stuffed recreations of the creatures they’ve brought back, and the dozens of others they hope to come. Takes him down an elevator for a brief tour of the vast underground complex where scientists from all over the world work to reverse natural selection. 

Genetics aren’t his specialty. And while he understands the concepts of de-extinction theoretically, the minutiae of it goes over his head. So he smiles and nods to the various department heads while Tyrion rambles. They didn’t hire him to understand the genetics of it.

They hired him to handle direwolves. 

“Ready to meet them?” Robb asks after he finishes all his paperwork. 

“Sooner the better…” he answers. 

The facility where they keep the pack is climate controlled to keep a fresh coat of snow on the ground. But that’s not why his skin ripples with gooseflesh. Direwolves. Real ones. Six of them. Grey Wind. Lady. Nymeria. Summer. Shaggy. And Ghost. 

He’s read all Robb’s research and notes. Watched videos of their training sessions. Even spent time watching the livestreams the Park puts online. He knows them by name. Knows how they move. How they behave. How they interact. 

The main concern is that when Robb leaves, there will be a power vacuum in the pack and they will hurt each other competing to be Alpha. He needs to step in and establish his leadership immediately. 

The sooner the better. 

“Hopefully, we smell enough alike that they’ll make it easy.” Robb states as Jon straps the leather guards around his forearm. Just in case. 

“Aye.” he answers as they step into the enclosure. 

Robb lets out a low long whistle and Jon winces internally. He’ll need to try and match it to make the transition easier. He takes a long stabilizing breath and plants his feet. Digging his heels into the earth. Standing his ground. Remembering all his training. Both from the Military and from his field work up in the FrostFangs. 

He is in hostile territory, engaging a dangerous target. 

But nothing can prepare him for seeing a wolf the size of a small horse. The massive grey beast approaches slowly, cautiously. His ears alert. Grey Wind. The first one they brought back. The oldest of the pack. Robb extends his hand and Grey moves to place his muzzle in it. 

Submission. Deference. 

Teeth snap in the trees, as Nymeria makes her presence known. The largest. A full four hands taller than Grey Wind. Her paws the size a baseball glove. She ignores Robb entirely, marching straight up to him with her teeth bared. Threatening the stranger in her pack’s territory. Her yellow eyes weighing him, determining how much of a threat he presents. 

She snarls at him and he snarls back. Careful to match her energy. Careful to not move his feet. Stepping forward is a sign of aggression. 

And she could rip his throat out. 

It probably hurts less than getting stabbed seven times. 

Robb whistles and she breaks off her glare. Moving to trot around the perimeter. The others emerge from the trees. Lady immediately comes to rest her muzzle in his palm. Tail wagging when he scratches beneath it. So gentle and trusting, even giving him a small lick. More like a dog than a direwolf. Summer sits and stares. His eyes moving slowly between him and Robb. Inspecting them with curious eyes. Shaggy hugs the perimeter, staying close to Nymeria. He’s afraid of strangers. A bad experience with one of the trainers they brought on during Robb’s last leave. He was just a pup and the experience has left him fearful and… occasionally… violent. 

“Where’s Ghost?” Robb searches through the trees and shrugs. 

“He’s out there… He’ll come when he wants to. Let’s play some games with ‘em so you can see them in action.” 

They’re incredible. Wickedly intelligent. The increased brain mass obviously giving them a greater understanding of their environment. And a greater capacity to relate to humans. And to each other. They behave like no other pack he’s ever worked with. He saw it in the videos, but in person… 

He can practically feel them communicating. In dozens of slight twitches in their ears, in small flickers of their tails. In fur bunching and rippling. In pointed sniffs. Their larger size gives them a wider variety of noises. Deeper growls. Louder Howls. 

For now, he defers to Robb. Taking a place below him in the pack’s hierarchy. In the coming weeks, Robb will transition over to him. Make deliberate gestures of submission to establish Jon’s position as Alpha in the pack. They toss a heavy football back and forth. Nymeria and Grey Wind snapping up to catch it in mid-air and running around with it until Robb has to wrestle it back from them. Lady sidling up next to him for a scratch. 

This part of the direwolves’ biome is partially enclosed by a visitor center that allows park guests to watch what they are doing. He needs to get used to being watched. They’re constantly being recorded. For science and for security. 

“Let’s let them hunt, an’ then get some grub. I’ll introduce you to everyone.” 

They set the prey loose in the biome. A series of underground tunnels letting a deer out deep in the forest over a mile away. He watches them move through the small observation window. Grey Wind’s nose sniffing the air. A low howl ripping through him and quickly sprinting off. On the monitor, small colored dots move along a map of their territory. Gods they’re fast. Nymeria moving almost 150% faster than a standard grey wolf. 

A normal pack of this size would require around fifty square miles to range. Wolves of this size though… They should have double that. Its not possible though. The island is too small. He’ll do his best. 

He fiddles with the piece of Weirwood on a leather string around his neck. “Amazing…” he breathes. 

“Fuckin’ incredible.” Robb agrees. 

It’s like the military in alot of ways. Employees have to check in and check out with ID cards at every facility. Semi-Communal meals. Controlled communication to the outside world. On call 24/7. At least he’ll have his own place once Robb leaves. A small cabin connected to the Direwolves facility. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Jon” Margarey rubs her hand along her stomach. The small swell of his niece or nephew poking out from her shirt. “You are giving us such a gift…” 

“I should say the same t’ you.” he offers, chomping into a fry. “It’s a dream job.” 

“Still… You’re giving us a chance to have a family… Robb wouldn’t trust anyone else but you with those wolves. You’re giving him...” she pauses carefully choosing her words “… peace. If he wasn’t leaving them with you, it would tear him up inside.” 

“Are you to going back to Winterfell…?” 

“Not yet… My grandmother is getting older and…” she sighs letting the unspoken conclusion remain unspoken. 

“JON!” Robb bellows bringing some beers over to their table. His arm around a stout young man and accompanied by a mousey girl. “I’d like you to meet Sam and Gilly Tarley. This is my brother Jon. He’ll be taking over for me in a few weeks.” 

He shakes both their hands and opens Gilly’s bottle for her with the opener on his keychain. 

“Thanks...so two Wolf trainers in the same family… What are the odds?” Gilly remarks. 

Robb laughs easily. “Do you want me to tell it or-” 

“-Go ahead” 

“So when we were kids… we found these pups on our ranch. Their mum had died so… we took care of them.” 

“In secret” he adds.

“In secret FOR YEARS… Our Da’ didn’t find out till I brought a girl home and tried to show them off to her. Then rumors started when we broke it off, and we had to take them out to the reserve.” 

“Ruined it…” Jon murmurs taking a long swig.

“He’ll never forgive me for it.” his brother laughs. And gods he needs to change the subject. Don’t want to come off as the Broody Veteran his first night in. 

“What do you two do here?”

“I’m just a Tour guide. But SAM…” she smiles bright at her husband “Sam’s a genius geneticist.” The apples of his cheeks swell under the compliment. 

“Oh I don’t know about all that…” 

“Of course you are… you’re the one that going to bring back giant Stags. I’m sure of it.” 

He laughs. Amazing. It’s all just… fucking amazing. The building shakes a little and outside there’s a loud roaring screech. 

“Have you seen them yet?” Margarey asks excitedly. 

“Rhaegal practically swooped him as soon as he walked in to the park.” Robb makes a diving motion with his hand. “I swear I thought he was going to land right in the middle of the Tourist Trap.” 

“Really!? He’s usually quite skittish.” 

“I must be lucky then…” 

He must be lucky.

It’s been a long day and as much as he enjoys his brothers company, he needs his time alone. And his feet carry him to the direwolves enclosure. He shouldn’t go in. They aren’t used to him. They’ll see him as an intruder to their territory and without Robb… 

He goes in anyway and sits down in the thin layer of snow. It reminds him of home. Of Winterfell. Of his time in the FrostFangs. The cold numbness seeping through the seat of his jeans, familiar and somehow soothing. 

And out the mist and the trees, red eyes flash and the white wolf slowly creeps up to him. He holds his gaze. Remaining seated. Remaining calm. He moves silently, like his namesake. Large Paws barely leaving a print in the thin snow. He’s like a Ghost in many ways. In all the footage he reviewed, he’s the least seen. He doesn’t have the same kind of relationship the others have and when they interact... its different. He’s not quite part of the pack. 

Just like him and his family… 

Jon holds his hand out and the Direwolf approaches cautiously. Keeping his head down. His eyes at Jon’s level despite their current height difference. And all too quickly his muzzle presses into his palm. And they hold each other’s gaze.

He knows its science. This creatures is a clone they created out of some scrap of DNA they found in some rock somewhere. 

But it feels like magic. 

And its gone. The connection broken with terrifying screech. Sparks flying outside the enclosure. Ghost bolts off into the trees without a sound. 

Outside a Dragon struggles to free itself from a downed electric line. It makes the most horrible noises. Pain. Confusion and Fear. It’s long neck thrashing back and forth as it struggles to free itself. 

For a moment he’s frozen. But then a bolt travels along one of the lines shocking the poor creature. He sprints to the transformer, cutting the power to the line he’s tangled in. Who thought it was a good idea to put power lines where there’s Dragons flying about? The current dies and that’s one problem solved. 

Now he just needs to untangle him… A feat easier said than done. Wings flapping. Tail whipping. Spines cutting into the the steel fencing. Teeth gnashing. 

No Fire though. That’s good. That’s a start. 

“Rhaegal…” he tries the name out. “Easy Rhaegal… M’ not gonna hurt you” he approaches with his hands up. 

He could be burnt to a crisp. Or bit in half. 

Probably less painful than getting stabbed seven times. 

“Easy there… That’s a good…” he gulps “...dragon” 

Holy fucking shit. It’s a dragon. 

His hand finds the scales and gods its warm. Like a furnace. He can see the fire building in its throat. Orange glittering in the cracks of its scales. Oh Gods. 

He trails his hand along his neck. The giant golden eye staring at him all the while. 

“M’ just gonna go ahead and grab...this…” he grabs the end of one of the lines thats been tangled in his spikes. Its hooked onto a small claw at the joint of its wing, pulling and bending it awkwardly, probably painfully. 

The Dragon lets out a chirping growling sound. 

“Easy now…” he tries to pry it free gently, but the tension in the line snaps and it whips out. Striking the Dragon. He roars in pain and a burst of heat and flame erupts from its mouth. Tail flailing. Knocking into him. Sending him soaring through the air. 

“ _RHAEGAL!_ ” a voice yells. Firm and Feminine “ _Skoros's pirta ñuha jorrāelagon_ ” 

He blinks, his vision cloudy from landing hard on the cement. A woman boldy strides toward the dragon. It lets out that chirping, clicking noise and she coos at it. It’s large face pressing into her outstretched hand. 

“ _Gōntan se doru-borto vala ōdrikagon ao_ ” **

It roars, as she _climbs_ up onto its back. Tugging off the power lines from where they are caught in its large spines. The cord sagging and pooling on the ground. She jumps off and pats his neck. Pressing a kiss into it as it chirps contentedly. 

“ _Konīr iksā ñuha jorrāelagon, ao sagon dāez. Sōvegon lenton. SOVEZ!_ ”

With three massive beats of its wings, and gust of wind, its airborne. Flying off toward the mountainous peak at the center of the island. She watches him fly. Her nearly silver hair hanging to her waist in a tangle of braids. Jon picks himself up with a groan. 

“WHAT ON EARTH DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING!?” she wheels on him. Rage painting the lines of her face. 

“...I…” 

“DID YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS!?” 

“He was trapped. I just wanted to help him." 

"And if he had killed you, what then!?” She gets in his face. “Are you still saving him when we have to put him down because of your stupidity!?” 

He opens his mouth to respond but she scoffs and storms off in a rage. 

“Hey wait a second!” he follows after her. “I saved his life. If it weren’t for me he would have been electrocuted.” 

Her silver hair whips around. 

“Are you expecting a medal?” 

“No. But not really expecting t’ be screamed at either.” 

“Screamed at!?” 

“Aye” he matches her volume to hers. 

“You’re lucky I don’t have your job…” her eyes dart around him looking for something. “Where’s your ID Card!?” 

“Where I’m from we just introduce ourselves.” Have his job. Who the fucks does she think she is? 

“Well, you aren’t there anymore are you? Here, we wear our ID Cards, so that the cameras can track them, so that when things like THIS-” she stabs her finger into his chest “-happen we can ID who is involved! It’s a matter of transparency.” 

“Well, I did not know that Ms…” he looks down at her ID card. And he can’t figure out how to pronounce the first name. But he recognizes the last. “...Oh.” She was not joking when she said she could have his job. He takes a deep breath. Calming himself. “It’s my first day. I didn’t know. I was just trying to help. Please don’t fire me. Look…” he pulls his ID card out of his pocket and clips it to the front of his shirt. 

Her fierce blue eyes narrow. Glancing between his name and his face before sighing heavily. 

“For Margarey’s sake… I won’t have my brother fire you, Jon Snow.” 

“Thank you.” 

“And please refrain from making any brave and heroic decisions in the future. Especially when those decisions include Dragons.” 

“Aye.” 

She nods and bites her lip. Those fierce blue eyes suddenly shy. “Well...Good night.” Her feet do a quick pivot and she marches away. 

“I didn’t catch your name…” 

“Daenerys…” she answers over her shoulder. 

“Daenerys…” he rolls the name around in his mouth and he very much likes the way it tastes. “Good night Daenerys. And thank you.” 

Robb nearly strangles him in their cabin when he tells him what happened. He almost fucked up their chances on his first day. Almost lost a dream job. Almost got himself killed. 

Again. 

He fiddles with the piece of Weirwood around his neck and smiles in his bed.

‘Brave and Heroic.’ Yea. Those were the words she used. ‘Brave and Heroic’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used this Translator for Valyrian.  
> https://lingojam.com/EnglishtoValyrianTranslator 
> 
> *What’s wrong my love? 
> 
> **Did the stupid man hurt you? 
> 
> **There you are my love, You're free. Fly Home. FLY!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”Good Job my Love…”_ she coos softly, running her hand along the crest above his eye. It’s where he likes to be stroked. It soothes him. Especially when they have to perform the weekly blood draws. _“My Brave Boy.”_

This past week has been particularly rough. The electric shock had left him disoriented and confused. His flight patterns erratic and unstable. Which meant tests, X-rays and MRIs and more of the dreaded oversized needles they needed to pierce his thick hide. They ruled out any trauma to his brain, the current wasn’t strong enough to do any neurological damage. There wasn’t any structural or muscular damage either. 

He’s just lost confidence. The unexpected crash leaving him shaken and craving affection. 

A mother knows these things. 

So she gently coos and pets him while the Phlebologist finishes his blood draw. He doesn’t fit in her lap anymore. His head alone is nearly as tall as she is. She leans against him, resting her head atop his, close to the small hole of his ear so he can hear her whispers. 

“All done Ms. Targaryen.” 

“Thank you” she calls to the tech as he packs up his kit. Rhaegal lets out small trill and pushes against her. Demanding even more of her attention. As if he hasn’t taken every ounce she given him this week. 

_“Don’t you want to go dance with your brothers, my love?”_ She points up and his large golden eye follows the line of her arm. Drogon and Viserion circling above them. Swooping and spinning and twisting about one another in their beautiful dance. _“They miss you…”_

As if making her point, Viserion dives for them, his creamy iridescent wings creating a small windstorm as he lands behind them. Calling to his brother with a high SCRREEE before nosing playfully under Rhaegal’s folded wings. 

High above Drogon lets out a loud booming roar. Telling his youngest brother not to bother. Viserion’s large sapphire eye travels over his brother, before landing on her. He lets out a small series of chirps as his snout presses into her outstretched hand. _“Don’t worry my sweet boy, Go Play…”_

He cocks his head to the side, fluttering his wings at Rhaegal in a last effort to get him to join. Then flapping hard once, twice and taking to the winds to join his oldest brother 

“Why isn’t he up yet!?” her own brother snaps, storming into the Dragonpit. His slacks and button down standing out vividly against the red rock “It’s been over a week. People paid to see three Dragons and they’ve only been able to see two.” 

“He isn’t ready..” she retorts defensively. “Besides we wouldn’t be in this situation if you had authorized funds to move the power lines underground like I’ve been asking…” 

“Don’t you dare blame this on me.” he hisses. “If you had trained them better...” Rhaegal growls when he raises his voice to her and Viserys takes a startled step back. 

“They aren’t Robots! They’re living things. They’re curious about their environment. You can’t take that away from them without destroying what they are” 

“You’re their handler. Handle them.” he turns on his heel and strides out of the pit. “And if you can’t we’ll just have to chain them up again.” 

No. He wouldn’t dare chain her babies. Her hand instinctively moves to the scar on Rhaegals neck. A discolored patch of scales from the last time Viserys had them chained up. She meets his large golden eye. Her own defiance reflected in the large pupil. 

_“I won’t let him hurt you. Not again.”_

She takes a step back and Rhaegal perks his head up. His spines bristling with her rage. 

_“Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor!”_ His wings spread and stretch, and he squawks angrily. _“Issi ao iā buzdari?”_ He opens his mouth and she can hear the clicking of the metallic phalanges in his throat knocking together. Small sparks crackling inside. Preparing to ignite. _“Pār sōvegon, Rhaegal!”_ He flaps his wings. Powerful gusts whipping her braid around. Flame spitting from his maw. Hovering a few feet off the ground. _“Sōvez!”_

And with a roar, he takes to the sky. Joining his brothers in their ancient dance. 

“He won’t chain them up again, Daenerys…”, Margarey chimes sweetly, using a pair of long hooked tweezers to carefully pluck out a stamen from one of the Blue Roses growing in her lab. Setting her prize in a petri dish. “People want to see Dragons flying around… not in cage.” 

“You’re probably right” She sighs heavily, her elbows sliding along the steel table. Margarey, always practical, always logical. Everything Viserys is not. His decisions don’t always follow the most reasonable course of action. 

A camera flashes, rendering both of them blind for a moment. 

“Renly, darling…” Marge’s tone gentle and maternal as she admonishes the photographer.. “Could you please refrain from using the flash? I’m not sure how photosensitive this particular strain is.” 

“Sorry…” he answers looking down at the camera and adjusting the settings. 

“What are the the photos for?” she asks.

“For Marge and Robb’s retirement announcement.” 

An ache spreads through her chest. She’s really leaving. One of her few true friends on this island. Her eyes fall to the baby bump poking through her friend’s lab coat. She can’t blame her. Margarey has dedicated most of her life to Paleobotany, brought long extinct plants back from the dead. Made the world more bright and colorful with her research. And the effects of her work will be far reaching. Who knows what sort of secrets these roses could hold? Or the dozens of other plants she and her team have resurrected? The pharmaceutical benefits alone could save millions of lives in the future. 

Now she wants to focus on the life she’s bringing into the world. 

“I did all Robb’s yesterday…” Renly adds and Margaery perks up. 

“May I see? I never get any good photos of him” He nods enthusiastically and hands the camera over. Margarey’s face lights up as she flips through the photos of her husband. Her expressions shifting between small soft smiles, girlish giggles, and quiet pouting “aws”. 

She’s so in love. 

“Oh I looove this one…” she turns the camera around so her and Renly can see. Robb and Jon laughing while playing with one of the wolves. “Robb’s mum never took any pictures of them together. Sansa and I have been trying to put together a family photobook for years.” 

“I’ll send you the whole lot.” 

Margarey smiles bright in gratitude, but it twists wickedly as she continues clicking through the photos. “Renley...” A conspiratorial edge to her voice, her perfect eyebrow arching high. 

“Oh like you haven’t looked…” he sasses. 

“Ogling my husband’s brother…” she tsks and winks, passing the camera to Daenerys. 

“Half Brother...” Renly corrects, a mischievous grin splitting his face. 

Ever since the incident with Rhaegal, she hasn’t been able to shake him from her mind. Truthfully, she felt guilty for yelling at him. He’d done exactly what she would have if their roles were reversed. And his quick thinking prevented Rhaegal from being seriously injured. She’s been searching for an excuse to talk to him and apologize. In the staff dining room, her eyes would flit to the door every time it opened. She’d even took the long way to the Dragonpit a few days ago, passing by the Direwolves’ biome. It was dumb. Childish. She’d felt stupid and embarrassed all day after. 

Gods. She swallows looking down at the picture.

He has one arm stretched behind his head, pulling his hair back. The sleeve of the t-shirt taut around the curve of his bicep. The corner of it creeping up his torso, revealing a sliver of alabaster skin around his waist, a cut groove into his hip, and a dusting of black hair below his navel. Laugh lines, and subtle scars around soft dark eyes and a genuine, warm smile. 

She swallows again and hands the camera back to Renly without saying anything. Margarey laughs quietly returning to her rose bush. “Do I have to worry about you stalking my good-brother?”

“I needed to take new photos to update the website. I wasn’t being a creep… I just happened to capture his…” A coy smile lifts the corner of the man’s mouth. “..BDE” 

She turns to Margarey for an explanation, trying to puzzle out the acronym. Her friend chuckles quietly, before mouthing a silent explanation.

“RENLY!” 

Renly laughs and waggles his eyebrows. “When’s your replacement coming in, Marge? I need to schedule the shoot.”

Margarey lets out a heavy sigh as she plucks another sample from the plant. “Unfortunately it seems that with my departure, the Paleobotany department will be downsizing.” 

“No!” she lets out a gasp. No way. It’s the most important work they do here. “I’ll talk to Tyrion. There’s no way he can allow this.”

“I appreciate it, Daenerys….” but the tone has shifted. A sullen sad energy hanging over them. She’ll talk to Tyrion, but it's probably no use. Viserys controls everything, and his priority is profits. Not progress. 

It’s Renly that lifts their spirits. His energy unwaveringly bright in these dark times. 

“Do you want to do the rest of the shoot in the Gardens? With all your plants?” Margarey’s face brightens instantly. 

“That would be lovely darling” 

She storms through the administrative building. Stomping through the empty offices that seasonal interns and grad students use during their short stays on the island. The ones Tyrion uses them to buffer his own. 

“How may I assist you, Ms. Targaryen?” Shae asks. Her demeanor patient and pleasant, despite Daenerys’ obvious fury. 

“Where’s Tyrion?” 

“Mr. Lannister is out to lunch with Mr. Martell. I can send him out to meet you when he returns.” 

_Mr. Lannister._ Please...Everybody knows they’re fucking. Everyone knows he’s her ‘Little Lion.’

“I’ll wait.” She takes a seat in one of the plush oversized leather chairs in his reception area. She shouldn’t have to wait for him. Viserys may control everything, but she his as much a Targaryen as he is. She has just as much a stake in her family’s estate. If not more… 

Idly, she wonders what would have happened if Viserys had come. Would Shae have called Tyrion right away? Would she have made him wait? 

No. 

They wouldn’t want to wake the Dragon. 

The secretary’s faltering typing grates on her nerves. The stumbling hunting and pecking, the quiet swears and the frantic backspacing. Couldn’t Tyrion have found a more suitable position for his girlfriend? She’s kind and good with people. She could have been a tour guide or a concierge at the hotel. Something where she isn’t struggling so hard. 

“On second thought, I’ll come back.” 

When she was a young girl, she would run through this maze of offices whenever she grew impatient waiting for Rhaegar to get off work. 

They used to be full of people, all working to bring her father’s dream to life. Mr. Derry would show her how to fold paper origami dragons. And he always had lemon candies. Her shoulders slump under the weight growing in her heart. Her big brother. Mr. Derry. All those people. 

They’re all gone now… 

Nostalgia carries her to his old office in the corner, the one with the red door and the big window that looks out over the sea. 

“Oh I’m sorry…” she startles “I didn’t think anyone would be here.” 

He looks up from his work, a grin splitting his face. Oh Gods. He wears glasses. Thin silver frames making those big brown eyes all the bigger. 

“I’ll get out of your way.” she reaches for the door. 

“Yer’ not in my way…” He’s still smiling as she turns back. She offers a sheepish one in return, nodding to his ID card. 

“I see you’ve decided to follow policy, Jon Snow.” 

“I even brought backup... “ tugging at his throat, freeing a thin black metal chain from his shirt. Two dog-tags hanging heavily from it. “...In case I get burned to a crisp, and you need t' ID my ashes…” 

A surprised burst of laughter jumps out her throat and she clamps a hand around her mouth to silence it. He lets out a dry chuckle, replacing the tags in his shirt. Military. She should have known. Who else would be brave enough to run up to a Dragon? 

“Listen, I uh… never thanked you for helping Rhaegal. As ill-advised as it was, he could have been hurt if you hadn’t intervened…” 

“Is he alright? I haven’t seen him…” he circles above his head with a finger. As if pointing out dragons flitting about his head. 

“He’s well. He just needed some attention…”

“Extra lovin’ from mum?” 

A slow smile spreads across her face. The other researchers and handlers have made snide comments about her relationship with her Dragons. Oberyn even went as far as to say she’s tainted all their research by mothering them. But they don’t understand them like she does. They imprinted on her when they hatched, that night in Rhaegar’s lab. They won’t listen to anyone else, they’d become wild and dangerous without her. 

“Don’t you have your own office at the Direwolf biome?” she takes a seat on the corner of the desk. He leans back in the chair, arms stretching overhead.

“Robb’s still got run of the place for a few weeks…Plus, I...uh like the view…” He’s staring at her. Gods he’s staring at her. He blinks suddenly, his eyes going wide. “I mean-... Not that you-... I just...” he flounders and sighs. Dragging a hand through his hair and points over his shoulder out the window. “Ocean. I like it.” 

Her cheeks are warm. Hot even. A pink tongue peeks out to wet his lips as he ducks his head in embarassment. The tips of bright red ears poking out from his hair. She swallows hard and looks away. Her eyes darting out the window. The sun glitters off the Narrow Sea, sparkling with each wave crashing into Dragonstone’s shore. 

“I used to come here to watch it all the time when I was a girl.” 

“Helluva place to grow up.” 

“Certainly not boring. There was always interesting people around. Someone always discovering something new and exciting…” Those days seem to have passed by, all the research and discovery slowing down, in favor of the tourism and the park. She eyes the notes he has spread out over the desk. 

“What are you working on?” She picks up one of the journals, an annual publication on genetic disorders. Flipping open to the page he has marked. “Albinism?” 

“Aye”

“Is something wrong with Ghost?” He’s quiet for a moment, eyes thoughtful. 

“He isn’t integrated with the rest of his pack. Doesn’t have a real place in its hierarchy.” 

“A lone wolf... “ she completes the thought and he nods solemnly. “Is that bad?” 

“Lone Wolves die. Packs survive.” He states it as truth. Not Truth as in a scientific fact, although that may be the case. Truth as in a moral truth. A philosophical truth. A truth that defines how a person interacts with the world. “Wolves are social animals. An’ Ghost is silent…”

“You think it may have something to do with his Albinism?” 

“Maybe, I don’t know. It might be...uh-” he taps his head. “-Somethin’ with his brain. Might be a learned behavior. Whatever the reason, it’s cut off half his means of communicating with the others. So all he has t’ go on are things like body language, eye contact, an’ all that...” His dark eyes meet hers. His posture open and relaxed. Leaning back against the chair. “...unspoken energy between living things.”

She feels it. The air between them full of that unspoken energy. Thick like his accent. Warm like the flush that hasn’t quite receded from her cheeks. 

“What will you do?” she adjusts herself on the corner of the desk. 

“Still workin’ that part out…” he nods. The windows rattle slightly and he turns around in time to see Drogon gliding outside. His shape a dark shadow against the sun. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that…” 

“I never want to...” 

“Aye” he answers, gazing out, watching Drogon swoop and skim along the waves. Her phone buzzes in her back pocket, and she pulls it out with an apologetic pout. Its Shae, letting her know Tyrion has returned. 

“I got to go meet with Tyrion…” she sighs. “Thank you again… for Rhaegal.” 

“Perhaps I can meet him proper some time…” 

“Perhaps Jon Snow.” His eyes follow her as she spins out the door. 

“Why are we downsizing the Paleo-Botany department!?” she hisses at Tyrion without giving him a chance to greet her. He holds up a finger to protest. 

“We… are not downsizing. We are...” he rolls his hands around as he chooses the right words. “...waiting for the right person to come and take over Margarey’s position… and we are simply not actively seeking out a person to take over Margarey’s position.” 

She feels her eyes go wide and her jaw set. Of all the double-talking bullshit…

“That research is important. It may be the most important work we do here.” 

“I agree…”

“THEN WHY!?” 

He raises a calm hand, and silently gestures to the chair. She takes the seat in huff as he folds his hands on his desk. 

“We have lost 30% of our grant funding this year alone…” her mouth hangs open and Tyrion nods. “With the political unrest on the mainland… science programs are always the first on the chopping block.” 

“Where does that leave us?” She should have been paying more attention, attended more meetings. “What do we do?” 

He begins listing off all his ideas. Some are rather clever, like allowing movie studios to come and film the creatures for their pictures. Others ideas are not so great. 

“-I’ve even spoken with some movers within this whole Paleo-Yogi-Foodie-Health scene about hosting some kind of retreat here.” She cringes. That is absolutely the last thing she wants. They already have to deal with Sparrows protesting their work. Calling their creatures ‘abominations in the eyes of the Seven’. The last thing they need are more ‘naturalist’ anti-science propagandists on their island. 

“Besides we also have the annual Gala coming in a few months. Who knows who will show up.” Dany groans at the thought and Tyrion offers a small laugh. “It’s a good opportunity to secure funding… Anyway... What’s important is the Paleo-Botany program is not going away. It is just slowing down for the moment. As important as the work is… people don’t come to this island to spend their money looking at plants…”

“Mr. Lannister.” Shae buzzes through the intercom. Her tone terse and angry. “Your _sister_ is on line one.”

Tyrion flinches, looking at the flashing light on his phone. The angry red led flicking on and off with a steady methodical impatience. 

“If you’ll excuse me Daenerys. Regretfully… I must take this…” 

She sighs and pushes herself out of the chair. Adding weight to her steps to silently voice her displeasure at being dismissed. Tyrion blowing out a long steady stream of air before answering. 

“What do you want, Cersei?”

“Oh my dear _Little_ brother? Is that anyway to greet your sister?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
> Margaery and Robb say their goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Enygma0710 and jalen_mara and Meisie and aliciutza and ianecasey for letting me word-vomit on them. Enjoy the fruits of their suffering.
> 
> Also super special thanks to justwanderingneverlost for my Moodboards. She made me three! One for each of these beautiful, terrible monsters.

“Hello… Hello… Is this thing…” Tyrion taps the top of the microphone with his hand. “Is this thing on?” The sound system suddenly popping and fizzling to life. “Ah. Yes. There it is. Shae…” snapping his fingers to get the woman’s attention. “Shae, could you make sure everyone has some champagne. Thank you.” 

“SPEECH!” someone drunkenly hollers from the back of the room. Followed by a half dozen other calls for the same. Robb drapes his arm across Margaery's shoulders and turns her attention to the dwarf standing on the small stage in the Banquet Hall. Tyrion raising an eyebrow and indicating the microphone as if to say ‘what-the-fuck-do-you-think-I’m-doing?.” 

“Thank you all for coming out tonight, as we thank Robb and Margaery for all the hard work they’ve done over these past… ten years.” 

Behind him a slideshow plays, their boss’ small frame casting a shadow over the dozens of photographs of his brother and good sister. Margaery and her plants. Robb and the Wolves. Photos documenting their long tenure here at the park. 

“When we first began toying with idea of resurrecting mammals, an idea that was far beyond the scope of anything Aerys or Rhaegar Targaryen ever dreamed, Varys-” the dwarf points with his champagne glass to a bald man nodding politely in the back corner “-brought me a stack of potential recruits from every university in the world. And in that stack was a profile for a young paleozoologist from the small town of Winterfell, who was set to graduate at the top of his class, and a curious newspaper clipping about how he raised wild wolf-pups as a young man.” 

Jon has to bite his lip. The flash of jealousy, both inappropriate and unwanted. He knows the article Tyrion’s talking about. Catelyn had fussed over Robb when the reporter came by, wanting to talk to the town’s star quarterback. He’s mentioned in it too. A clause wedged in the middle of a sentence.

‘’The young wolf earned his nickname by raising a litter of wolf pups, alongside his half-brother, while still only in primary school” 

He would never have had the chance to be in that stack of first recruits. While Robb was in school, he was halfway around the world, trying not to get shot by Harpy terrorists. Shooting down Harpy terrorists. Cursing his guidance counselor who told him that the military was his only chance to be able to go to college while Catelyn’s father had paid for Robb’s education. 

A dark-haired woman with a terse smile hands him a glass of champagne from a tray. He mouths a ‘thanks’ but, she doesn’t see it. Storming through the crowd muttering to herself about not being a waitress.

“...And when our Botany department was reporting failure after failure, we heard a tale of a genius young woman out of the Reach, who had received her doctorate in record time, who had already developed two and twenty new strains of roses. We knew we had to talk to her. After one phone call, we knew. This was the woman would turn this department around.” 

Next to Margaery, a young man with a camera hanging around neck raises his glass high and yells “All Hail the Queen!” and the entire room erupts in a loud echo of “ALL HAIL THE QUEEN!” Margaery hides her face in faux embarrassment, tucking into Robb’s shoulder. A huge grin on her face. Glowing. Tyrion waves down the calls, continuing his toast. 

“I remember eating dinner with Oberyn and we spotted the two of you crossing the yard, holding hands and he turned to me and said…” The dwarf smiles, chuckling quietly to himself, moving the microphone away from his mouth as he laughs. “What did you say Oberyn?” 

“I said their babies will reduce grown men to tears!” an olive-skinned man shouts. “Among other things…” 

“Among other things…” Tyrion repeats, a conspiratorial grin flickering across his face. Next to him, Robb barks out a laugh and the crowd ‘aws’ at a wedding photo that pops up on the screen. “I remember a New Year’s party in this-” he gestures widely, indicating the banquet hall “-very room when you got up on this very stage and proposed. I remember arguing with _certain_ people about shutting down the gardens to host your wedding-” 

He wasn’t at Robb’s wedding. Another tour of duty overseas, this time because it was the only place he could go after his own engagement was broken off. After his own dream girl, a girl with a fire in her hair, a girl he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with, destroyed everything they had been working toward. Another tour of duty, that ended with him finally waking up in a Veteran’s hospital in the Vale, holding his half-sister’s hand and listening as she tearfully explained what had happened to him, how many weeks he had been unconscious, how many surgeries he had undergone, and what the next steps were. Staring at the fire in her hair and wishing he had just died instead. 

The room laughs at a joke he missed, tugging him sharply back to the present. 

“On a more serious note, you two are some of the finest people I have ever had the pleasure of working with. Your contributions to this project, to your fields, to science and to the world will be great and far-reaching. The life and color you have brought into this world make it a better place to be. And you both have made all our lives better, just by being in them. Thank you.” Margaery sniffs and wipes her eye, and Robb nods and mouths a ‘Thank you’ back. “And so I’d like to propose a toast” The dwarf raises his glass. “To Robb and Margaery” 

“To Robb and Margaery” everyone echoes, raising their own glasses.

“And to bringing life into the world,” Tyrion adds, nodding down to the stretched fabric around Margaery's midsection. His little niece or nephew. His good sister laughing at her glass of sparkling water as everyone drinks. “Enjoy the party!” 

Robb squeezes his shoulder. “Some speech.” his brother’s voice thick with emotion. 

“Aye. Some speech.” 

“Come on, I want you to meet people.” 

He follows his brother and his wife as they meet with well-wishers, longtime friends, and co-workers. Robb tries to introduce him but he quickly falls into his role as the invisible brother. The goodbyes are often long and tearful; full of fond memories that he has no place in. His niece or nephew kicks with all the excitement and attention and too many people palm Margaery's stomach while she hides a cringe behind a smile, too polite to say anything. 

The only other people he knows are Sam and Gilly. But, they left before the party even really started, as soon as their son started to fuss and cry. And it's not long before he excuses himself for a vape, ducking out onto the large patio of the island’s hotel. Desperate to not be the third wheel. 

The tie around his throat is too tight and the jacket is too snug around his arms and shoulders. The ill-fit heightening his anxiety in a situation where he’s already awkward and uncomfortable. He loosens it, giving himself a bit more breathing room. Pulling the slender device out of his pocket and taking a long drag. The humming whir gently vibrating on his lips, the flavored vapor sucking down into his lungs. Taking in the sea salt air between drags. Watching the ocean crash into the dark grey cliffs below.

During his last session before coming here, his shrink in the VA hospital told him he should leave himself open to possibility. That there was no reason the next decade couldn’t be the best years of his life. That he still had time to be a different man than the one he was before. That he still had time to want things. 

_“War makes us serious men.”_ Dr. Seaworth said _“We come back and the world is different. We get up. We go to work. We eat whatever is easiest. We go to a place we call home but, you and I both know that it's just a bed… When everything is life or death for so long, one of the first things to go is our willingness to seek out enjoyment… Fun. Pleasure. Connection... and as time goes on it gets harder for us to experience it, and that life we fought so hard for, ends up empty and cold.”_

“You know there have been no long-term studies on those things, right?” He turns at the sound of her silvery voice as she hops up onto the railing next to him. Her cocktail dress subtly shifting between a blood red and black as she twists to find her balance. The drink in her hand spilling a bit. 

“Aye,” he smiles “Better than the alternative though.” 

“You don’t know that...” she chides with a lilting sing-songy laugh, taking a sip of her drink, before toeing his leg with her fashionable boot. “Why are you out here all alone?” 

“Just didn’t want to get in the way.” shrugging and sighing and blowing out a long breath, the real answer twisting in his guts. That lonely thing inside him desperately trying to claw its way out. “Besides, it's not really my sort of party.”

Daenerys cocks her head, her long braid falling to the side. Her blue-green eyes reading him. Seeing right through him. Spearing right to the truth he’d failed to hide. White teeth pull on her bottom lip, dragging away the faintest smudge of the deep red lipstick. 

“And what is your sort of party, Jon Snow?” He feels heat creep up his neck, and his ears burn with embarrassment. Stupid. Her family owns this whole place. She probably paid for the party and he’s acting like an ungrateful git. He’s already made a complete arse of himself in front of her twice, and he’s doing it again. “Something a bit more relaxed?” she teases, taking another sip before leaning in and tugging at his tie. Playfully looping it around her hand. “More casual?” 

“Aye.” swallowing hard. “Somethin’ like that.” She smiles and slides off the railing, carefully setting her drink on the ground at her feet. Eyeing him up and down appreciatively. Her smile getting all the wider as he flushes under her scrutiny. 

“Let’s see if I can get you to enjoy this party.” Her fingers work the knot of the tie, zipping it free from around his throat before urging him to shrug out of his jacket. Mischief sparking in her eye as she pulls his dog tags and Weirwood fragment out from beneath his shirt. A bare brush of her skin against his as she adjusts them to hang just so. A knowing smile playing on her lips as she steps back and tapping a finger against her chin as she admires her handy work. “Hmmm. Better, but…” 

“But?”

“Roll up your sleeves,” she commands, tucking his tie into her purse. Rifling through the studded black leather bag looking for something. He does it as she growls in frustration and finally pulls a rubber band out of her own hair, the end of her long braid becoming ever so slightly unraveled. Motioning for him come closer. “Come here” 

He raises an eyebrow, but complies, bending over so she can gather his hair up. Desperately trying to not focus on the keyhole in the neckline of her dress, and the dark crease of cleavage contrasted against a perfect stretch of pale skin. She smells amazing, something warm and singed hiding behind something delicate and floral. Dragonfire. Her hands work his hair into a knot at the back of his head. The rubber band snapping into place. 

“There,” she lets out a satisfied noise. “A perfect man bun.”

“Man Bun!?” he scoffs as he rights himself. Already missing that scent. 

“Aye” mimicking his accent with teasing grin, grabbing her drink, his jacket, and his arm. Looping hers through his. “Let’s go!” 

She drags him back to the party, pausing only to leave his jacket and her purse on a chair. That youthful fluttering feeling of anxious anticipation simmers low in his stomach. Something he didn’t expect when he took this job. Something he wasn’t looking for.

“YARA!” Bouncing and waving at a woman across the room. Practically skipping to her, reaching back to pull him along. “Yara! Have you met Jon?” 

“Yara Greyjoy. I work with the Krakens.” The other woman extends her hand to shake. Her black suit jacket deliberately distressed, with band patches and buttons sewn along the lapels and a large embroidered skull and crossbones on the back. She nods to Daenerys “This the wolfman that’s got the mermaids all tangled up in their tails?” 

“Mermaids?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Daenerys puts her hand on his cheek and turns him to look at two nearly identical girls with varying shades of green hair standing by the windows, posing and taking selfies. 

“Wynafryd and Wylla. Viserys hired them to make the Kraken’s exhibit more ‘exciting’” Yara rolls her eyes and makes air quotes before taking a long drink. “All they do is cover my tanks in body glitter and take pictures with boys who can’t their eyes of their tits…”

“Are you sure that isn’t just you?” Daenerys counters. Yara sticks out her tongue and points to him.

“D’ya have a drink?” he shakes his head. She snaps her fingers and hollers at the ‘witless wonders’. Pointing at the bottles lining the open bar and telling them to bring one over. They stare at the small group for a second, popping their gum and whispering into each other's ears. “Now Please! Or do you want ME to pick!?” 

It sits mostly empty in the middle of the table, another halfway done next to it. Daenerys leans over him, as he lines up his shot with the stag. Across the table, Renly makes faces to try and distract him. 

“You’re gonna miss” he taunts. 

“No, M’ not.” 

“-It even gets in the little fucker’s tentacles.” Yara rants. “Do you know how hard it is to clean glitter out of tentacles?” 

“It’s not my fault” Wylla pops her gum and shrugs, tapping away at her phone while balancing precariously on a chair back. Her metallic green leggings casting disco-ball reflections on the table. “Put in a better filter or somethin’” 

“A little more to your left…” Daenerys murmurs, her breath humming against his neck. Warmth seeping into his shoulder. 

“Oh _put in a better filter or somethin’._ That’ll stop yer craft herpes from spreading.” 

“Ew.” the mermaid groans and he cringes. 

“Keep saying herpes louder. It’ll distract him.” Renly demands. 

“No it won’t.” he counters, flicking the coin. It bounces and arcs perfectly into the shot glass. The photographer swears loudly, and Daenerys claps with one hand against his arm before looping hers back around it. She’s been doing it all night. Grabbing his arm, swatting his shoulder, leaning in close. 

While he was recovering and living with Sansa, there was a bartender named Val who’d touch him like that. Scratch his beard, tug on his hair, touch his elbow. His sister told him not read into it. Saying that’s she was drunk or she was ‘ _just that sort of girl_ ’ or she was ‘ _trying to get better tips._ ’ When he started working in the Frostfangs and Ygritte started doing it, Tormund told him she was ‘ _marking her territory._ ’ 

“Wylla, tell Jon how you became a professional mermaid.” 

“We were in the Olympics,” Wylla announces, shuffling on her perch. “Silver medal, Synchronized Swimming. Qarth 2012.”

“Synchronized Swimming isn’t a sport.” Renly scoffs.

“FUCK YOU!” the girl screeches. “I’d like to see you hold a knight for more than thirty seconds without crying” 

“Oh, I’m sure Renly could _hold a knight_ just fine” Yara laughs, pouring more the amber liquid into the center cup before lining up her own throw. 

“How long can you hold your breath?” 

“Like five minutes.” popping her gum again “Seven, if I’m not wearing my tail.” 

Yara’s stag clinks into the glass and Renly curses again. Reaching to add more liquor to the center cup. Letting Daenerys ease back into her spot as they watch Renly miss… again. 

“Renly, just stop playing. You’re going to end up worse off than I am.” Daenerys groans as he takes the large cup from the center and drinks it. 

“I never lose.” Wincing as it goes down. 

“You just did,” he adds, earning a light giggle from the woman resting on his shoulder. 

“And you will again.” Yara dumps out the stags from the shot glass and pushes them to the players. 

“That so?” Renley fiddles with the settings on the camera as he lines up his new shot. 

“Aye.” 

“Huh,” A flash suddenly blinds him. Pinching his eyes shut and watching the black silhouettes dance behind his eyes.

“Renly!” Daenerys cries, pressing her fingers into her eyes. “That was a dirty trick” 

“Well...You win or you die.” 

“Boooo...” Wylla bellows, green and blue make-up smearing as she rubs her eyes. Yara wrestles the camera away and triggers the flash in Renly’s face as he squawks. Daenerys winces as yet another flash threatens to blind them. 

“Too bright” she slurs, turning her head away on his shoulder. 

“Do you want me to get you some water or something?” he whispers into her hair. 

“-Be gentle with that,” Renly shouts “That’s company property” 

“Please. Something with caffeine. A pop.” 

“-Oh Company Property now it is it?” 

“Be right back.” 

He’s not sure if it’s the liquor, or if it's just her. But, his side is cold with her warmth stripped away from it as he walks to the bar and shuffles through the handful of people lingering. Pulling a pop out of a mini-fridge behind the bar. Then, after a second thought, pulling out a water bottle as well. 

A woman has taken his seat, a large cloud of coiled curls floating around her head. A professional blouse and skirt setting her apart from the other party attendees. 

“-he just dropped it all on me, like right at 4:45 and said ‘You need to complete this before you leave.’” taking a long drink. “I just finished and I ran over here as fast as could.” 

“I’m sorry,” Daenerys curls her arms around her knees. “I’ve tried to get him to see reason.” 

“It’s not your fault… You wouldn’t want to ‘wake the dragon’” The woman lets out a disgruntled noise through her nose. An ornate silver ring through her septum. He cracks open the can and she looks up at him and smiles as she takes it. But a melancholy that wasn’t there before swims behind her eyes. 

“Thank you” She takes a sip and brightens, a mask slipping into place like clockwork as she stands “Missy, have you met, Jon? He’s the new Direwolf handler” 

“No.” extending her hand to shake, a tattoo sleeve peeking out from beneath the cuff of her blouse. Watercolor butterflies dancing around flowers. “Missandei, I translate all our content” Daenerys pulls him into her seat and shuffles onto his lap. A warm weight settled pleasantly on top of him. Draping her arm around his neck. 

“Is this alright?” a whisper in his ear. 

“Yea.” It’s more than alright. 

She stays there as the party dwindles down. Well-wishers for Robb and Margaery finally content with their goodbyes. A hundred promises to keep in touch that Robb will forget and Margaery will keep. She slumps against his shoulder, barely keeping her eyes open. A few too many drinking games robbing her of the will to move. His arm locked around her waist so she doesn’t fall… And because it feels good. 

“Oh darling, are you alright?” Margaery coos, lifting her head. Robb giving him a thumbs up discreetly behind his wife's back. He frowns and Robb holds up his hands in mock surrender, winking at him and laughing. 

“I’m fine.” she stammers. 

“Oh poor baby, I’ve warned you about trying to match Ya-” Dany interrupts her, snatching her wrist in a sudden movement. Her body, once limp and pliant in his loose grip, startling stiff.

“You’re leaving me…” lip trembling. Margarey wipes away a tear. 

“I’m only a phone call away. And soon, you’ll be able to come to visit us out at Highgarden. And I’ll show you all my grandmother’s gardens and all the new colors of roses I’m going to breed. And you can see the baby...” 

“You know I can’t leave…” 

“We’ve talked about this… you can leave whenever you want… All you have to do is say the word” Dany shakes her head and reburies herself into his shoulder, despondent, as he looks up at his good sister both confused and apologetic. Margarey lets out a sad sigh and runs her fingers through Dany’s hair. “Jon, will you please make sure she gets home alright?”

“Aye.”

A fog hangs over Dragonstone, shrouding them in mist as they walk through the empty walkways of the park. Her arm slings around his waist and his drapes across her shoulder. His suit jacket around her, to protect her from the chill of the early hours. Passing by vacant shops and restaurants. A merry-go-round with Dragons and Direwolves, Krakens and Lizard Lions blinking bulbs of bright color through the grey. 

It’s an easy sort of familiarity, something he’s never experienced before. An intimacy that feels like instinct. But through it, a voice hums in the back of his mind, telling him it’s just the drink. A woman’s voice with a thick Northern drawl, so very similar to his own, telling him that the lonely thing inside him is interpreting her kindness as interest, her attention as affection, her flirtation as fondness. That she’s like Sansa, playing hostess and overcompensating in order to make everyone around her happy. That despite everything he’s been through, he’s naive. That he knows nothing about the way the world works. 

“I don’t want to go home…” she murmurs. 

“You should find your bed” he answers. “You’ll feel better…” She shakes her head solemnly and looks up to the dormant volcanic peak of Dragonstone. An old mansion made of dark grey brick built into the side. Practically hovering over the fog, a handful of windows glowing with an ominous orange light. 

“Viserys will be in a mood because he’s too much of a snob to join in the fun but he still resents everyone because they had a good time.” 

When Robb first propositioned him with this job, months ago, he had played up all the benefits. Working with the wolves; More or less free housing on an island; a better salary than Mance could ever pay him up North; good people; access to cutting-edge technology. The only downside was a low grumble of ‘the owner’s a little rough to work with but, as long as you avoid him, you’re golden.’ He hasn’t heard much of Viserys Targaryen, but if Dany doesn’t even want to go home… 

“Sounds like my ex.” She snorts out a laugh, dragging the heel of her hand under her eye to pull back a tear. 

“I’m sorry,” apologizing and breaking away to walk backward in front of him. “I wanted you to have a good time and I just ended up getting drunk and crying all over you.” 

“I had a good time. It was fun.” 

She looks to her feet for a moment, biting her bottom lip and cautiously slides back into place under his arm. 

Intimacy that feels like instinct. 

“So where would you like to go, if you don’t want to go home?” 

“What haven’t you seen?” 

“Most of it, been busy, gettin’ Robb and Marge all packed up. Tryin’ to get settled, Workin’ with the Wolves.” 

“I know just the place.” 

The Kraken’s exhibit is huge. Half a pirate-themed aquarium, half a marine biology laboratory, half a stadium overlooking a large bay. A large old-timey Art Nouveau sign hangs at the entrance. Two Mermaids flanking the words _**Manderly’s Mermaids - Watch Wynafryd and Wylla tame Beasts from the depths of the Ancient Ocean**_ , followed by a list of showtimes for the day. 

She slides her key card through a slot on the door and motions for him to follow her. Motion sensor lights clicking on along the walkways. Interconnected through the complex are transparent glass tubes and tanks. Winding and wending through all the exhibits. And in them, thousands of tiny Krakens scurry away from the sudden flash of lights. The smallest ones were no larger than his little finger, the biggest ones rarely bigger than a football. Cute iridescent little fuckers with squashed up beaks and curly white tentacles. 

“There’s so many of them…” 

“These are the just the boys.” He taps the glass to startle one and it darts away as she playfully slaps his hand before taking it. 

“Cmon, I’ll show you _Mom._ ” 

A huge seawall fences in a large black shadow that moves through the water with quick sudden darts and feints. Tentacles wrapping and tangling around itself as it swims. 

Blackwind. A full-grown female Kraken. 

Her keycard grants them access to a VIP area. A row of cozy enclosed suites along the water level of the stadium. Full of amenities; sleek leather couches and a stocked mini-bar. Fish tanks and pirate themed decor scattered throughout the room, including a spyglass that offers a closer look at the legendary monster swimming through the water. 

There’s something hypnotic about her. When he looks closer, he can see that she’s iridescent too, just like the little males. Only she’s like oil slick on asphalt after it rains. Ribbons of jeweled tones shift with her jagged movements through the water, skirting the edge of the seawall. Searching for a way out. A trapped thing, beautiful and fearsome. 

Daenerys grabs two beers from the mini-bar and takes a seat. Folding her legs beneath her, absently undoing the thick braid. 

“How big will she get?” 

“I don’t know, probably a lot bigger.” Daenerys shrugs as he takes a spot next to her on the blue couch. She leans in, her arm extending to fiddle with his dog tags. Her finger tracing over the raised print of his name. “Ever since you arrived, I’ve been trying to figure you out. I haven’t been able to.” 

“I could say the same” she laughs and lets the metal drop back on his chest. 

“Then I propose a game…” 

“M’ listening.” 

She jangles her keys to free a bottle opener keychain from the tangled mess. “I will ask you a question, and if you answer I have to drink and if you refuse, you have to drink. And then you do the same to me. And if we both refuse to answer: we finish these bottles and I let you walk me home” 

He squints, running his tongue across his teeth. “Why do I feel like this is a trap?” 

“Because it is,” a coy smile crossing her face, the faint smudge of her lipstick making her lips look swollen. Kiss-bitten. “And that counts as your first question.” Pausing to take a sip of her drink. “Did you really have fun tonight or are you just humoring me?” 

It’s been a long time since he’s had that sort of fun. Been a long time since he had the opportunity to stay out drinking and celebrating all night. Been a long time since he could surround himself with happy, enthusiastic people. Been a long time since a pretty girl’s kept him awake all night to talk about everything and nothing. Been a long time since he’s felt this. Since he’s wanted this. 

“More than I’ve had in a long time…”

“Really?” Genuine excitement in her voice, as if she expected him to lie. 

“Aye-- And that’s another question” Her mouth falls open in surprise and mock outrage, and she playfully slaps his shoulder, grinning all the while. 

“I deserve that.” taking her drink. “Ask away.” He hmms thoughtfully for a moment. 

“How did you come up with your names for the Dragons?” 

“Ummm” She shuffles on the seat, bringing her legs out from beneath her. “Rhaegal and Viserion are after my brothers and…” she trails off and shakes her head. “Gods this is embarrassing. Drogon is after Khal Drogo…” He starts to take a drink, but almost sputters it out in a laugh as she flushes and buries her face in her hands. Peeking through her fingers at him. “Stop laughing. I was three and ten!” 

“M’ Sorry. I swear, I’m not laughing at you. My sister, Sansa, loved Khal Drogo. She was obsessed. She had posters of him lining her bedroom walls and one of those uhhh…” he makes a folding gesture “ full-size pop-up cardboards of him. I think Robb and I used it as a dartboard.” 

“I wasn’t allowed to have posters, but I had a binder full of like cutouts and articles and I had all his movies, and all his television appearances recorded. I remember when they started putting videos online, I waited like five hours for the first trailer to Pillagers of the Great Grass Sea to load on dial-up.” she bites her lip and gives one more embarrassed smile. “How old are all your siblings?”

She smirks as he lists them, giving him a look that lets him know exactly how pleased with herself she is. Clever girl. Tricking him into answer two questions at once. 

“Have you always lived on Dragonstone?” 

“No. When I was very young, we lived with my brother Rhaegar and his wife in Dorne. We all moved here after my father died.” The mournful way she speaks of her oldest brother and the unnecessary sip from her bottle tells him all he needs to know. “What did you do before coming to work here? Other than the military of course?” 

“I worked up in the Frostfangs. We reintroduced wolves to the wild. Ones that had been held in captivity or were injured or were in danger of being hunted down south. Conservation. Preservation.” 

“Teaching wolves how to be wolves…” 

“Aye. Something like that.” she takes a drink and makes a motion for him to ask his next question

It goes back and forth, this game that she devised. She asks about his time in the Military, what his other siblings do. She’s fascinated by Arya, his little sister who followed him into the armed forces, devoting three rounds to questions that he can’t give the answer to. Not because he doesn’t want to but, because he doesn’t know. She’s earned a much higher rank than he ever did, and whenever they speak, there are the things she just can’t tell him. Where she is or what she’s doing? 

He swallows hard, caution and curiosity playing tug of war inside him. “Why can’t you leave…?” she blinks, all her softness becoming hard. 

“Because my dragons will kill someone” she answers flatly, a low fire burning in her voice. “Why does a war-hero play second fiddle to his brother?” He doesn’t answer, only takes a sip. The bitter drink biting along his tongue. She lets out a small snort and nods. 

“Why is a girl that tames dragons afraid of hers?”

Blue-green eyes pierce into him, drumming her fingers along the outside of her bottle. By her own rules, it's up to her whether they continue in each others company, or if he takes her home. 

“You can’t tame a dragon” 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. But he wakes to the sound of movement above them. Children and families yelling and cheering with excitement. The first thing he sees is her head resting on his chest, her arm wrapped around his waist… her hand crept beneath his shirt. The warmth of it branding his skin. The smell of her seeping into the cloth. The perfect way she fits under his arm. 

The lonely thing inside him overwhelmed with an ache that is almost painful, like being frostbitten and stepping into a too hot shower. Jarring. Shocking. Necessary. Good. 

Looking out over the ocean as that ache dulls and subsidies. And for a few peaceful moments, he lets himself think about the possibilities. Of what his life here could be like. 

She stirs and looks up at him, blinking away sleep. Her makeup smudged in such a way that seems to make her even more beautiful. Her warm hand shifts away from under his shirt as she checks her watch. Groaning at the digital display alerting her of the realities of the day. 

“We were supposed to watch the sunrise.” she pouts. Rubbing her eyes and then startling stiff at the sudden burst of his laughter. Frowning and demanding an explanation. 

“Sunrise is on the opposite side of the island.” A stunned shocked expression freezes her face as she considers his words before gasping. 

“Oh gods you’re right!” the skin around her eyes crinkling as she breaks into a laugh, her slight frame practically vibrating with delight. “I guess we’ll have to try again sometime… on the right side of the island” 

“Whenever you want, Dany” 

“Dany?” the smile she gives is small as she leans in close. Sea green eyes blown open, locking with his for a tense second, before stealing an even smaller kiss. 

A tentative brushing of lips, soft and sweet. A kiss that is a question. One that he answers with his own. Her fingers trace his beard and neck, his sliding through her hair. Breaking and rejoining in a cautious dance that gains confidence with each press of their lips. That becomes bold as mouths slant against each other to open and widen and build in want and urgency. 

Tasting her with syrupy sips. Breathing in her slight sighs. Eagerly exploring along the edges of her lips before demanding entrance. Teasing her tongue before tangling with it. 

Her smartwatch beeps with an irritating melodic chime. She taps it behind his neck to silence it, tangling her hands into his hair. Her nails running across his scalp, forcing an involuntary noise from his nose. A similar hum against his lips when he grabs her in response, pulling her closer. 

His phone goes off next. The annoying squawk meant to startle him awake on the rare occasion he isn’t already up and about, working off all his endless pent-up nervous energy. Pulling it out of his back pocket and silencing it with a press of a button before tossing it aside. Smoothing his palms up and down her sides, rubbing along the rough glittering texture of her dress. 

Eager kisses turn into nips and sucks trailing down her neck that are matched in kind. Teeth scratching and dragging across his throat. Her body shifting around as she disregards his now crumpled jacket and moves up onto her knees to hover over him. His hands daring to creep down her back to the swell of her arse as she claims him. And it's a knock on the window that disrupts them this time. 

Yara stands at the window along a thin cement walkway in a black wetsuit with a yellow kraken. Waving and Smirking, before doing two or three pelvic thrusts. Daenerys slides off of him looking mortified and he feels the exact same expression on his face. Heat creeping across his face. 

“Stop looking at me like that! Yer the ones neckin’ in front of my beastie.” the sound muffled by the glass. Daenerys quickly smoothing her dress over and finger combing her hair as he tries to discreetly adjust himself. “Have you see her up close yet!?” Yara asks through the window, pulling a fish from a bucket at her feet when he shakes his head. She motions him to the window and whistles, dragging the small fish through the water. 

Almost instantly, waves start to spill over and lap against the window. A moment later, huge black tentacles, thick as tree trunks, twist and spiral out of the water. A huge cephalopodic head emerging. Sixteen opalescent eyes rolling to look at the small fish in Yara’s hand. Shiny black skin with those oil slick rainbows, glittering in the sunlight. 

“Gods” 

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Dany comes to stand next to him. 

“Aye.” Glancing down at her and taking her hand. She blushes and smiles, studying her feet for a second, before nodding out the window. 

A vertical crease running down its head splitting open to reveal a cavernous maw, as tall as he is, filled with white spines the same color as the little male krakens. It doesn’t roar, but sings, a deep hollow noise, like the saddest whale song. A long throaty note that vibrates the window and blows back Yara’s hair as she tosses the tiny fish down its spiny gullet. 

“Thatta girl!” Yara whoops and hollers as the creature sinks beneath the waves. 

“Fuckin’ Amazing.” he breathes, fiddling with weirwood around his neck as he watches Yara hug a lingering tentacle. The buzzing and beeping of her smartwatch breaks the spell. Snapping them back to reality as she silences it and sighs. Giving him a smile and a final fleeting kiss before starting her day. 

She has her own monsters to take care of. And so does he. 

Margaery sits at the counter of the small kitchenette. The apartment connected to the direwolf facility isn’t that large. A small bedroom, a tiny bathroom, the little kitchenette, and a space that barely fits a couch and coffee table. But his good sister stares at it all, tears flooding her green eyes. 

“You were out all night…” Wiping them away as he comes in, and taking a sip of her tea. 

“Nothing happened.” taking the stool next to her and pouring himself a cup of coffee from the small pot. Hissing as he’s scratched by the small plant next to the coffee maker. One of Margaery’s plants. The Queen of Thorns. A rose like bush that last existed over 100 million years ago before going extinct. Dark Green stems covered in shoots of thick black thorns all tangled around each other. Each twisting stem ending in a pretty blue bloom. 

“I know you are not a very good liar, Jon, but it's a bit easier when the truth isn’t written all over your face.” smiling a smile that makes him believe she knows exactly when the world is going to end. “Or perhaps more appropriately-” taking another sip of tea. “-Marked all over your neck…” 

Feeling his eyes blow open in shock, touching his throat to find a tender patch of skin as Margaery smirks and gives a small chuckle. 

“Ah Fuck…” resigning to drinking his coffee as she takes in the emptiness of her apartment. All of their stuff has been packed and shipped out to her Grandmother’s in Highgarden over the past few weeks. Her eyes glossing over again as she eyes what remains. All the unneeded furniture they are leaving for him and a handful of suitcases stacked neatly by the door. 

“I’m going to miss this place.” a hopeful sorrow in her voice. “All my happiest memories are here. The big... and the small. Everything that’s ever meant something to me… All the things that really mattered....” a single tear escapes and she lets it glide down her face, reaching for him instead of wiping it away. Her hand settling on his wrist. “I hope it gives you the same…You deserve it.” 

Outside, Robb yips and hollers with the wolves and they watch through the large window looking out into the biome. His brother wrestling with Nymeria on the ground. Shaggy circling them and bouncing back and forth, looking for an opportunity to join in. Still a pup learning to play.

“He was devastated, you know. After…” she doesn’t say it, only shifts her hand down to his and gives it a small squeeze. “Sansa practically begged me to take his phone away, because he wouldn’t stop calling all night… asking if you had woken up. He said it felt like beetles crawling under his skin because he wasn’t with you.” 

He takes a deep breath. Trying to force the unwanted hurt out through his nose before she sees. Not knowing what to say to his good sister, only nodding and takes a slow sip of the cooling coffee

“I never saw him pray before we got the call… He almost resigned. Almost walked away. It took Sansa and Uncle Benjen to talk him out of it leaving everything to go be with you. He yelled at Ned and Catelyn… Can you believe it?”

“No.” he answers flatly. Robb’s never raised his voice to their father. Not once. Not even when they were at their worst. But they aren’t kids anymore… Far from it. 

“I’d never seen him so angry.” she shakes her head in disbelief. “He didn’t talk to them for almost six months. Arya still hasn’t- ”

“I didn’t want that.”

“I know” rubbing and squeezing his hand. “I know… It's not your fault, honey-love.” She smiles reassuringly, a genuine, warm smile that almost makes him believe it. “These past few weeks, with you staying with us, you two having the time to reconnect… It’s been good, for him. Seeing you alive, working with wolves, adapting to a place that has given us so much… I think he’s starting to forgive himself.”

He wouldn’t’ve been able to forgive himself if Robb gave up all this for him. But it still hurts, that moment when he blinked awake and his brother wasn't there. That his father wasn’t there. That Arya wasn't there. It's not that he’s ungrateful for Sansa, dutifully taking care of him when no-one else could. But still… if it had been Robb… maybe he would have believed he’d be okay… 

“We want everyone to come to Highgarden for the Holidays. After the baby comes. I think it will be good. A low pressure, neutral space. It’ll give your family--Our family” she quickly corrects herself. “… a chance to heal.” letting the words hang in the air as she sips her tea. “Besides my Grandmother would love to meet you, she loves it when handsome young men come to visit.” he snorts out a laugh as her nose crinkles up with a wicked smirk.

“I’ll be there.”

Robb tosses the heavy football through the air and Grey Wind bolts for it. Moving like his name through the layer of snow in the gargantuan geodesic dome controlling the wolves climate. 

“Oy! Glad to see you finally up you lazy git!” his brother calls as Summer trots up. The wolf nuzzling him and licking up across his face. The cold cutting into the slobber on his cheek. Whining pitifully as he scritches his ears. 

He knows Robb is saying goodbye. He’s smart… They’re all smart. But Summer is gentle, soft, emotive and sensitive. If he was human, he’d call it empathy. He pats him firmly, the force dominant and reassuring. Meant to tell him that he’s going to be okay, that the pack survives even when one of its members leaves. 

“You have fun?” Robb teases throwing the football yet again. Nymeria and Grey Wind nipping at each other to catch it. Ghost silently watching from a place just out of range. 

“More than you” 

“Oh” snickering like the teenage boy he isn’t. “You’ve never been with a woman at the end of her second trimester.”

“Probably for the best I stayed out then.” 

Robb laughs and wrestles the ball away from Nymeria, tossing it to him. It’s a game they’ve played their whole life. Tossing a football back and forth. The familiar rhythm of the leather smacking against their skin, punctuated by snarls and yips as the wolves try and get it on the game, occasionally catching it. Nymeria snatches it in mid-air more than once. The strongest and the fiercest. But not the alpha.

Strength and ferocity are not the only things that matter in a pack. 

The game goes on longer than it should. Until Margaery finally comes to stand in the door, silently telling Robb that its time. Lady circling her and sniffing her abdomen. His good sister giving the she-wolf’s muzzle a kiss. His brother looks to his wife for a long moment. Silent words of long love exchanging in their eyes, before he whistles, gathering the pack up. All except Ghost, who waits on the edge. 

“I’m gonna miss you mangy mutts.” his voice tight and thick with emotion. Scratching each of them, lingering to stroke Grey Wind’s fur and press his head to the wolf’s in a moment of camaraderie. “I got to go take care of my own pack now...My own pup.” Partners in the pack. “Be good. Take care of the others.” 

His brother stands patting the wolfs neck and springs the trap deep in the biome, letting loose some prey for them to hunt. They sprint after it. Summer bringing up the rear and looking back before hurrying after his packmates. Robb drags his sleeve across his eyes and coughs, before pivoting hard and marching determinedly to his wife. But before he reaches her, Margaery nods and directs him to turn around. 

Turning him around to see Ghost, standing alone in the small clearing. 

“Finally came out to say goodbye, did’ya?” Robb kneels in front of the albino, ruffling his fur as the wolf presses his muzzle into the palm of his brother’s hand. Robb sniffs and looks into his red eyes, patting the thick neck firmly “Take care of my brother, will you? Keep an eye on him? Don’t let him get into too much trouble.” 

Ghost stares back, silent as always, blinking slowly before retreating back into the forest. Disappearing into the snow banks as easily and silently as he appeared.

The small port is full of Tourists wrapping up their family vacation. Fluster families with squawking kids slowly loading on the low barge back to the mainland. And in the middle of this chaos, they say their last goodbyes. He and Robb wrangling the luggage while Margarey holds the small potted bush. Holding it easily, as if it was a gift box and not a thorny nightmare from a hundred million years ago. Kissing Renly’s cheek and wrapping Daenerys in a hug. 

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” a man shouts in a sharp grating voice. He strides through the crowds flanked by two security guards. His face mirroring Dany’s features, only meaner, older… wilder. Margaery freezes and tucks in next to Robb. His brother stepping in front of his wife. 

“Viserys, what’s the meaning of this?” Daenerys stands between them. Her brother sneers down his nose at her. Leaning into her face menacingly. Pointing behind her at Margaery, his arm shaking with an unstable rage. 

“These people have stolen our property, and they will not be leaving this island until they have returned it.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Robb bellows stepping forward. Margaery grabbing his arm and tugging him back. 

“ _These people_ ” she spits “have given us a great deal, and you will let them leave unmolested.” A sneer crosses the man’s face, as he motions to the plant in Margaery’s arm. 

“That is our property. That is our birthright. That is our legacy.” 

“I brought this back. It’s my life’s work. I named it for my grandmother.” Margaery cries. “ I left dozens of mature bushes in the gardens and hundreds of viable seedlings in the labs.” At that, he moves to stand directly behind Daenerys. Blocking Viserys’ line of sight to his brother and good sister. Pulling out his dog tags from beneath his shirt. Extending to his full height. 

But it turns out his intimidation display is unnecessary because Dany’s own swoops and dives above them with a sound like cracking lighting. Flying dangerously low. Thundering and throwing fire overhead. The violent beating of Drogon’s wings throwing gusts of wind through the small harbor while tourists cheer and take out their cameras, ignoring the silver woman with her teeth clenched and her fists balled up at her sides and rage darkening her face. 

Viserys startles back, eyes flashing up nervously at the huge black Dragon, before narrowing in on Daenerys. 

“You are robbing us with your naivety, sweet sister, and I will not forget it.” snapping his fingers at the security guards to dismiss them. “Keep your dogs on a leash” glaring at Daenerys before sparing a glance at him. “All your dogs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask jalen_mara about the time Jeff Goldblum winked at her. 
> 
> It's the best story you'll hear all day.


End file.
